


Night

by Peaterparker



Series: Fridays at Fury's [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cheimatophobia, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, M/M, Nyctophobia, only a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-30 06:19:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3926083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peaterparker/pseuds/Peaterparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first he's confused and then he's worried. He hears the footsteps speed up and a cold sweat prickles along his spine. Should he turn and face the approaching person or should he stick to his instincts and run like hell? His DA is going to skin him if he breaks curfew again  but the fear is gripping him by the throat.  </p><p> </p><p>In the end, he doesn't regret his decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://www.rexuality.tumblr.com/post/101142241466/omg-so-i-was-walking-back-to-my-apartment-and-i). (Thank you, Regina!)

"Another!" Thor yelled as he waved to the bartender and pulled more money from his wallet to join the many crumpled bills in the center. 

Steve loved Friday nights at Fury's bar (yeah, the name of the bar always got them conspiring about whether Fury was Nick's actual last name, or if he was just always angry, around their sixth shot of Fireball) with his friends. They had the same table in the center of the room and the classic jukebox in the corner that only played the same song no matter how many times you press a different button (they've all lost too much pocket change trying to play a different song) was proudly playing Dream On by Aerosmith.  Every Friday night they met here, Friday classes long over and willing to forget the troubles of the past week for a least a few drunken hours. They all pitched in money for pitchers of beer and shots, crumbling up the bills in the center and leaving a very decent tip (Clint had his eyes on a certain barkeep and wanted to stay in good graces with them). There were always some other college students in there too, bumping elbows with some of the local alcoholics and getting smashed, but this Friday night the bar was pretty empty. 

"Man, the new DA put out a curfew? It's like you're not even in college, you need a mommy wherever you go. Fucking bogus." Sam whined between sips of his beer. 

"Yeah, well, if Clint hadn't scared the last DA off we wouldn't have a curfew."

"Hey! How was I supposed to know she was allergic to dogs? I didn't scare her off, I almost killed her." 

"That makes it so much better, you realize that right?" Natasha smirked.

Steve liked his new DA, he did. But the guy was a little high strung. Bruce Banner. He was pretty quiet, politely talking to other students in the dorms and never raising his voice. Steve had seen him sitting in the lobby of their building just reading a book, which wasn't that weird even at three in the morning, it was just... He was so quiet. The last DA threw a birthday party for one of her friends that lasted three damn days. 

"Rumor has it that he has a bitch of a bad temper." Natasha said evenly before flicking Thor's shoulder to get his attention. "You met Banner yet?" 

"Banner? Oh, yeah. He's a pretty cool guy. You have to ask him about his PhD, he gets this light in his eyes and this small smile when you actually understand what he says." Thor shrugged before turning back to talking to a brunette girl who was blushing furiously. The table was quiet for a couple minutes before Sam laughed.

"Anyways, curfew. I'm going to be late, again. He was pretty cool about it last time, but I don't really want to see this rumored temper first hand." Steve stood with a sigh and finished off his beer. He gave Clint a pat on the back, earned a high five from Thor, a kiss on the cheek and a sweet good night from Nat and a "bro-hug" from Sam.

It was warm outside when he stepped to the curb. At one in the morning the city was just as busy as when it was during rush hour. Steve was comforted by the fact that everyone was out to get their "stress relief from the past week" on. He stopped and bought an iced coffee before starting the half hour walk back to his dorm, knowing he was already running late. The crowds of people were thinning out as he got farther away from the bars and eventually he was walking alone down the half lit streets, softly humming under his breath.  He pulled his phone out and heard a sharp gasp from behind him, shocking him enough to speed up his walking. He lowered the brightness on his phone and was about to check his emails when he heard the sound of feet pounding on the concrete. 

He quickly typed in 911 and kept his phone down by his side just in case he needed to call. He listened as the feet continued to hit the concrete hard and felt a cold sweat work down his spine.  He figured he had about three choices; Run, turn and defend himself if needed, or call 911.  He slows his walking marginally, the feet continuing to catch up with him, and waits for the person to come closer before he turns. He had goosebumps and he bites his lip as his heart starts to race. It's not like he expects the worst from people but he's just heard so many stories about bad things happening to people walking alone late at night that his imagination gets the best of him. What if this person wants to skin him and wear him as a dress? What if they want to cook him in a stew to feed to their mother? What if-

Something sharp, like a shoulder and elbow, connect with his left side and sends him sprawling forward. There's a  heavy weight on him, quite a bit of gasping from both bodies, and something that sounds somewhat like a whimper from the body on top of his.

"Oh shit, oh God, oh man, I am so fuckin' sorry." The other guy pants out, trying to push himself off Steve. "I was running, I wasn't watching where I was going. I'm just trying to get home and I just-" He dragged a hand across his face and then offered his other hand to help Steve stand. 

Steve took a deep breath before he used the other guy's hand to pull himself up. "It's okay, I heard you running I just... I didn't know I was in your way." He brushed his pants off, looking down but keeping this other man in his peripheral vision at all times. The guy looked kind of familiar but unlike anyone Steve had ever seen before. He was a few inches shorter than Steve, curly brown hair in a complete ruin on top of his head and dirty clothes on. The brown eyes analyzing him seemed warm and curious. He held himself as if he was ready to run again, glancing around and making aborted eye movements. He seemed so on edge that it set Steve on edge.

"I-yeah. You weren't in the way, I'm just in a rush to get home." The other guy brushed Steve's shoulder off before taking off at a dead run again.

Steve's an hour late for curfew.

"It's Friday, Friday, gotta get drunk on Friday." Clint sings as he swings between Thor and Sam's shoulders. 

"Should have brought the duck tape." Steve jokes and Natasha smirks up at him. 

They left Fury's around three this time, staying later usually meant drunker but Steve was pleasantly buzzed. Clint was trashed, but what else was knew? He couldn't ever really gauge Natasha and Thor, but Sam was nearly as trashed as Clint if the way he was swaying on his feet said anything. They separated a street over, Steve having to go to the right to his dorm while Natasha and Sam went left. No one knew where Thor stayed, he never really said what dorm he was living in, but he always floated around between his friend's rooms (or whoever was the drunkest Friday night had an escort by Thor to their room where he crashed on their floor).  

Steve was walking alone on the same poorly lit street and breathing easy. His mind was wandering off to the incident that happened on this same sidewalk last week. He was thinking of unruly hair and warm brown eyes when there was the slamming of a door and a muttered curse behind him that brought him back to reality. He turned his head and saw a flashlight shining in his direction. He felt the cold sweat along his spine again, a fear gripping him tight. What exactly was there to be scared of right now? He was mentally berating himself on getting scared so easily, making jokes about how Bucky used to try and scare the shit out of him, when the light grew closer and the guy that had ran into him last week passed him. He turned around and was walking quickly backwards when he gave Steve a small smile. Steve felt his breath get caught in his throat and he nearly tripped over himself.

"Good morning!" He yelled and was off again.

Bruce didn't kill him but gave him a very unhappy glance when Steve walked into the lobby two hours past curfew. 

"Okay, so the guy bumped into you while he was running home three weeks ago, then last week he greeted you before running off?" Sam narrowed his eyes. "People of New York are weird."

"Maybe he still feels bad for knocking you over?" Thor tossed in.

The scene was the same as every Friday, except Steve was filled with some kind of tension over walking home now. Would he hear the guy before he sees him and get scared over it, again? Should he try and talk to this guy?"

Three beers later and Steve still didn't know what to do.

Four shots of Fireball and Steve wanted to at least know his name.

Two more beers and a mandatory bathroom break and Steve didn't even remember what he was worried about.

Clint bought another two rounds of shots and moved his seat between Steve and Sam.

"Okay, but get this- What if your guy is scared of the dark?" He looked up at Steve with wide eyes and his mouth in a small 'o' shape. 

"Are grown men even scared of the dark anymore?" Sam snorted.

"Clint still has a nightlight." Thor said.

"Dude, you know that was for my roommate." Clint groaned.

"Your roommate moved out four months ago to go back home." Natasha smirked.

"Whatever! It's a very legitimate possibility." Clint said and Steve thought about it.

That would explain the flashlight and the running. That would explain why he seemed so on edge and looking around like something was hunting him. 

Steve decided then that he would try to talk to this guy if he saw him tonight. He paid for the next three group shots and pissed again before he bid goodnight to his friends. Sam was barely speaking English and Clint was trying to direct traffic in an empty street. He should have helped everyone get home but he had something else to attend to. Natasha nodded and Thor gave him a warm good luck before they split. 

So here he was, walking the same dim street with sweaty palms. He was looking over his shoulder every few steps and was about to give up and pick up his pace when a door opened and someone stepped out. He couldn't see any physical features of the figure but the flashlight flicked on and they took a deep breath. 

"Hey!" Steve called and he heard a sharp inhale. "Hey, it's, uh, it's just me. You don't know me, but it's just me." Yeah, he was so much better at talking when he was drunk. So glad he chose to do this inebriated. "You ran into me three weeks ago, we keep bumping into each other Friday nights." Steve thought he was talking pretty well, he couldn't hear a single slur or mumble, but he could hear the guy chuckling as he walked closer.

"How much have you had to drink, sir?" The guy put on his best police officer voice and raised the flashlight to glare into Steve's face. "Oh wow, yeah, you definitely look and  _smell_ drunk. Public intoxication is a crime, my man." The flashlight lowered and Steve caught sight of the warm brown eyes and a smile, oh god that smile.

"Are you scared of the dark?" Steve was definitely not going to start out like that, but his mouth had other plans and wow, this guy's face dropped like a sack of bricks. Steve instantly felt cold inside and wanted nothing more than a time machine to go back those few seconds before the words came out of his mouth to stop himself. The guy looked around the street and swallowed hard, he pointed the light behind Steve to see if there was anything in the darker part of the street before he met Steve's eyes. 

"Look, I'm just trying to get home. I always stay too late on Fridays and I just need to get home. So, excuse me." He walked around Steve but after the third dim light pole he was gone.

Steve didn't see the guy the next three Fridays and was starting to give up hope on ever seeing the guy again. Sam and Natasha brought it up at least twice every hour they spent at the bar and Steve drank more. Thor had to take him home twice and it wasn't something Steve was proud of. The fourth Friday after their last meeting, Steve was tired of watching the baseball game on the screens in the bar, he was tired of the smell of smoke and alcohol, he was tired of Natasha giving him pointed looks when someone referenced his late night encounters, he was just fucking tired. He left early, bought two coffees to get him through the next morning, and ignored the hopeful feeling as he walked the same stupid road home. He thought he imagined the door opening and the flashlight flicking on, thought he ignored the groan and popping of joints, and kept his eyes on the sidewalk in front of him. 

He only slightly jumped when the guy seemed to materialize next to him. 

"Hey." The guy gave a small smile and Steve took a deep breath.

"Hello," Steve smiled slightly before frowning. "Look, the last time we... Well, not met up because this surely isn't intention, but the last time we saw each other I-"

"You were right." The guy laughed, it sounded weak and wrong and Steve didn't like it. "I am scared of the dark. It's embarrassing, being twenty-three and I can't even walk home without freaking the fuck out." 

"It's nothing to be embarrassed of, honestly." Steve shrugged his shoulders. "I'm terrified of the Winter season. I can't even touch snow or see ice without panicking." 

The other guy seemed to be evaluating Steve based on his answer, his eyes were narrowed and he opened his mouth a couple times before closing it. 

"I'm Tony." The guy said before nearly stopping Steve's heart with a smile.

They started a routine, Steve offering up his presence to help Tony get home safely and Tony meeting Steve and his friends Friday nights at Fury's. Everyone welcomed him about as well as they would a puppy, Clint challenged him to a drink off and they lost to Natasha. They enjoyed his wit and his dry humor, encouraged him when he made fun of Steve and enjoyed him putting in on the tab as well. Steve and Tony saw each other every day and every moment together that went by was another day that Steve smiled a little brighter and Tony breathed a little easier. Steve had even brought an extra flashlight with him when he met up with Tony. This thing they were doing, while never spoken out loud, gave a form of comfort to Steve all the times he could give a form of comfort to Tony. He felt his heart swell with every smile and Steve's smiles seemed more genuine with every eye roll and elbow jab from Tony. He noticed that Tony was slowly losing the wall he often put in front of himself around Steve, it took some time for them to work from first name basis to texting each other to meet for lunch if their class schedules allowed it.

So this Friday night wasn't any different from the last month worth of Friday nights, everyone was at the bar and everyone was enjoying themselves. The weather was changing, starting to get a little colder and Steve was starting to think a little too much about the cold when a very warm hand settled on his shoulder.

"Okay?" Tony asked quietly, warm brown eyes searching Steve's. 

"Yeah, I'm okay." Steve smiled softly at Tony. 

It was a Wednesday night when Steve absolutely lost his cool. Which was actually very ironic because it was the cool weather that sent him reeling into his own thoughts of ice covered lakes and crashing through the ice and not being able to find Bucky where was Bucky oh God he killed Bucky didn't he it was his idea to try and walk across the lake and he couldn't find Bucky why was someone pulling him out and not Bucky they needed to get Bucky he was farther across the lake than Steve was-

"Steve! Steve, come on, listen to me, do you hear me?" Warm hands framed his face and Steve absolutely did not whimper at how warm and alive these hands felt against his skin. "Hey, hey, it's just me, it's just Tony. Come on back to me, big guy." Tony wrapped a warm scarf around Steve's neck then placed his hands back on his face. "Let's get you home, huh?" 

Steve focused on Tony's feet, on his words, the warm hands that never stopped touching him. He stopped trying to pay attention to directions, he simply followed and let his heart beat calm. He watched Tony unlock a door but it didn't hit him that Tony took him back to his apartment when he took in the living room. Tony didn't know if he wanted to laugh at the owlish look Steve gave him or cry over how shocked Steve looked. Tony was still kind of freaked out over walking out of the lab and seeing Steve shaking and mumbling to himself. Steve went five minutes without talking or looking at Tony and that's when he remembered Steve talking about his fear of the cold. 

"I, um, I have a space heater you're more than welcome to sit by for a while to relax. I can make hot chocolate or coffee or... you know, whatever you want." He vaguely waved at the kitchen behind him and Steve turned his head to look around the room. 

"Water would be fine, thank you." Steve whispered, he rubbed his face with his cold hands and shivered.

Tony pulled out every blanket he owned and offered them all to Steve on the couch. He set up the space heater a few feet away from where Steve was sitting on the couch and brought him a bottle of water. They talked about movies, softly avoiding anything serious, and settled on a Parks and Recreation marathon. Steve knew he should leave, knew that he should call Sam and ask him to come over, but Tony was just so warm. The small smile he gave Steve every time he fidgeted on the couch, the warm brown eyes that asked him if he was okay without vocalizing their questions, the warm fingers that never once left his arm or the back of his neck. Tony was just so warm and welcoming and Steve really couldn't have been more comfortable if he tried. Soon enough he was a little too warm and slipped off his coats and Tony's scarf. He adjusted the blankets around him and settled back into the cushions. Tony's thigh was pressed against his, Tony's fingers playing in the small hairs on the back of his neck while they faced forward. Steve would be lying if he said that he knew what was going on on the television. Tony would be lying if he said that he wasn't a little disappointed when Steve stiffened when Tony leaned his head against Steve's shoulder.

"I'm, uh, not comfortable-" Steve managed to get out before Tony pushed himself away.

"Right, right. Sorry. I'll just go, um, somewhere else."

"No, Tony, stop-" Steve caught his wrist as Tony tried to flee the couch. "You're fine, I appreciate what you're doing, I do. I just wasn't comfortable sitting like that. I want to stay with you for a little longer, if that's okay?" 

So they settled in on the couch, Tony wrapped around Steve, all warm and cozy. Steve had his eyes closed and Tony was appreciating the bridge of his nose and the curve of his lips and the sharp jut of his strong jaw when Steve mumbled a soft "so glad you aren't a serial killer" before dozing off. 


End file.
